Page 127 of Blood

All of my men immediately turn to look at me, their faces wary, as if they’re staring into the eyes of a rabid dog, one foaming at the mouth and straining against its flimsy chain.

“Somebody’s hormonal,” Mason whispers conspiratorially to Vin.

“MOTHERFUCKER PEE SOUP!” My heart expands in a rapidly shrinking vise, one encased in barbed wire and thorns. “GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!”

Sweat drips down my forehead.

All at once, my men spring into action.

Mason puts a wet cloth on my forehead while Cal claims my free hand. Barret simply brings my knuckles to his lips to plant a tender kiss against the skin there. His hand must’ve been the one I strangled previously.

“You can do this, Violet baby,” Alex growls as he stands beside Cal, his eyes intent on my sweat-soaked face.

And then Frankie’s voice cracks through my pain like the slash of a whip. “On the count of three, you’re going to need to push.”

EPILOGUE THREE

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

VIOLET

“Dads. Stop embarrassing me.” Lyric’s face tints pink as she glares at her fathers with an almost fervent fury.

“What do his parents do for a living?” Hux fires off, his scowl more prominent than ever as he glowers at our eldest child. “Does he have any arrest records? How does he feel about knives...in his stomach?”

“Dad!” Lyric stomps her foot and then turns toward me with an exasperated eye roll.

I shift Rake in my arms, and my little angel gurgles, twisting slightly with a contented smile on his chubby face.

“Don’t look at me,” I tell my daughter. “I’m staying out of this. But I have to say, you look gorgeous, baby girl.” Tears glimmer in my eyes as I take in the beautiful creation my freaking eggs created.

Her hair is more white than blonde, tumbling around her shoulders in natural waves. Her heart-shaped face is emphasized by the dewy flush to her cheeks and the sharp curve of her brows. Right now, she wears a floor-length red gown that swoops over one shoulder and has a slit up her thigh.

“I can’t believe my baby girl is going to monster prom.” I dab at my eyes repeatedly, trying to stop the onslaught of tears.

“Mommy!” Angel tugs on my shirt, drawing my attention down to my other daughter. Her light brown hair is braided into an elaborate updo, courtesy of Cal, and she wears a ruffled blue dress and a tiara. She’s going through a princess phase—no surprise, given that her grandparents are always rambling on and on about how I’m going to be the queen once they retire in a few hundred years.

Sigh.

“Yes, baby?”

“Why are you crying?” This comes from Angel’s twin brother, Callum, who has the same brown hair of his sister but none of her softness. His emerald-green eyes are fierce and laced with perpetual irritation. He always looks at the world as if he’s planning ways to destroy it. It’s honestly quite cute for a five-year-old.

Before I can answer, Alex appears in the doorway and scoops Angel up, a wide smile on his beautiful face. That smile has become so frequent over the years, I’ve forgotten what he looks like without it.

“Mommy’s feeling a lot of emotions due to the baby growing inside of her.” He gives his daughter a kiss on the forehead as she giggles and preens.

Callum simply stares at my tummy, as if it holds all the answers to questions I didn’t even know he wanted to ask.

“No one will hurt you, little sister,” he vows fiercely, not pulling his attention away from my stomach. “I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

I glance at Alex in alarm and whisper, “Who taught Callum the K word?”

“Don’t worry, baby.” Vin slings an arm around my shoulder. “All monsters are obsessed with death and murder at this age.”

I laugh awkwardly.

Because, yeah, I think I may have given birth to a psychopath.

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